The Origin of Evil: Vendetta's Story
by VendettaAndGrudge
Summary: What made Vendetta the evil overlord she is today? Was it rage? Sadness? Pain? How did she gain the ability to make fiends? Why is Grudge so blindly loyal to her? Take a journey into Vendetta's past and find out.
1. Mr Milk's Stupid Move

The always-nervous elementary school teacher, Mr. Milk, stood in front of his fourth grade class, shaking at the sight of the red bird fiend on his desk that watched over him constantly. The kids had recently come in from a four-hour-long recess and had just been given 20 minutes of free read to look over their required magazines. Mr. Milk sighed, knowing it was time for some serious academic work. Provided _she_ would allow it. Which she rarely did.

"Uh… okay, class…" the tense educator began, nervously adjusting his white necktie. "I thought maybe today we'd… do some creative writing…?"

The evil green girl in the front row known as Vendetta scowled inquisitively. Grudge, the giant hamster seated next to her, grunted angrily.

The red bird fiend on the teacher's desk squawked with discontent. Mr. Milk began to sweat.

"I-is …that okay, Vendetta?"

The evil little girl knew that "creative writing" was a task far beyond the intelligence level of the stupid children in her class. She herself would much rather take magazine quizzes and eat clams than write creatively. But after four hours of recess and 20 minutes of reading _Spite Magazine,_ Vendetta was feeling good. Maybe even good enough to humor the balding man in front of her.

The evil green girl spoke, her thick Bulgarian accent apparent. "What sort of creative writing did you have in mind, stupid teacher?"

Mr. Milk trembled and wiped his brow. "M-m-maybe an… a-auto… autobiography?"

Vendetta cringed. A feeling of anger began to boil within her as visions of her complicated past came flooding back. She banged two green fists on the desk. Her life before becoming the overlord of Clamburg was not to be spoken or even thought of. And certainly not to be written down and handed in to a stupid teacher for grading.

"You…" the little girl raised a threatening finger toward Mr. Milk. "How dare you mock me? If I was not in such a good mood from the four hours of recess and the amusing article I just read in _Spite Magazine, _you would be destroyed right now!"

Vendetta's classmates shivered (except for Charlotte who was smiling like an idiot.) The little green girl and the giant orange hamster stood up and made their way to the front of the classroom. The little girl's eyes cut into those of her stupid teacher's.

"School is over for today. I am leaving. And tomorrow, you had better not try my patience again. Or else."

With that, Vendetta and Grudge walked out the door and into the town's dark atmosphere, heading in the direction of Vendetta's manor.

Mr. Milk began to feel dizzy. He loosened his necktie, laid down on the ground, and allowed himself to faint.


	2. The Child Prodigy

That night, Vendetta tossed and turned in her green fiend bed. The memories she had worked so hard to conceal had risen to the surface so easily. Why did that stupid teacher have to speak of an autobiography? After hours of lying awake in agony, the darkness finally brought out the melatonin in Vendetta's brain, allowing her to fall asleep. The little Bulgarian girl squirmed and moaned in her shallow slumber.

"Stupid… people…"

Her memories haunted her in her dreams.

Four-year-old Vendetta picked up her green backpack and skipped out the once-cheery manor's back door. She was on her way to her first day of preschool. The child prodigy looked forward to conversing with children her age for the first time. As she approached the door to classroom #7 at Musselman Elementary School, her heart raced with excitement.

A plump old lady named Ms. Bergamot opened the door to greet her student.

"Well hello, darling!" she beamed down at the little girl. "What's your name?"

"My name is Vendetta." The green child's Bulgarian accent had been even heavier when she was young.

Ms. Bergamot smiled sympathetically. What kind of parent names their daughter "Vendetta?" The teacher took the little girl's small hand and led her into the classroom where four other children were seated at undersized desks. The room's gray walls and fluorescent lights produced shadows that fell on the kids' faces and gave them each a ghostly appearance.

"I'm afraid we have a rather small class this year," Ms. Bergamot mumbled, clapping her hands. On the signal, all four children came forward. They looked curiously at the green girl in front of them.

"Okay, everyone!" Ms. Bergamot began. "This is our new friend, Vendetta. Why don't you introduce yourselves to her?"

She was given no response.

"Marvin, would you like to begin?"

The blue-green boy at the far left stepped forward. "My name! Is Marvin."

Ms. Bergamot nodded. "Very good." She then pointed to a sad-looking grey girl.

"I'm Maggie," she sighed.

The overweight dark blue girl next to Maggie smiled. "I'm Marion."

The gray-purple boy next to Marion shook his head when he was called on by the teacher.

"I answereth not." he announced, his brogue strangely Elizabethan English. "For 'tis blasphemous."

The teacher committed the sinful act of answering for him. "This is Malachi."

The children returned to their desks. Ms. Bergamot turned to her newest pupil. "Now, Vendetta. Why don't you take a seat next to Malachi? We were just going over our colors."

Vendetta nodded obediently and sat.

The teacher returned to the front of the classroom with different colored sheets of paper in her right hand. She held up a blue sheet.

"Who can tell me what this color is?"

Much to Vendetta's surprise, a stumped look appeared on the face of her classmates. Shrugging it off, she raised her hand.

"Yes, dear?" Ms. Bergamot said, pointing to Vendetta.

"It's blue."

"Very, very good!" the old lady gushed, causing Vendetta to grimace. The class pet, Billy the Hamster, squeaked from his cage across the room. The green girl's grimace became a smile. She liked hamsters.

The teacher held up a yellow sheet. "What about this?"

Vendetta raised her hand again. Ms. Bergamot called on her.

"Yellow."

The woman put a hand over her mouth in exaggerated shock. "My! Aren't you a little smarty!"

The green girl rolled her eyes. _Don't patronize me._

This time the teacher held up a red sheet. "Marvin," she said in a sugary-sweet tone. "What color is this?"

The little boy peeled the label off of a black crayon, trying to find a response to Ms. Bergamot's simple question.

"My… Um… It's… Uuuuuuh…"

Vendetta yanked her pigtails in exasperation.

"Red!" she growled. "It's red."

Marvin fell silent for a moment. "My… my answer…"

Ms. Bergamot chuckled. "Is someone an eager beaver?" she gestured toward Vendetta. "But dear, it's not polite to call out in class. Please raise your hand next time."

The green child exhaled and folded her arms. She looked at the clock. Barely two minutes had elapsed since she arrived at school.

The old woman smiled unnaturally and returned to "teaching." She thumbed through the stack of colored paper and located the same blue sheet she had held just a moment ago.

"Who can tell me what color this is?"

Vendetta leaned forward in frustration. "I thought we established that that is blue."

Ms. Bergamot laughed quietly. "Yes, my dear. We did. But today we're only learning about blue, yellow, and red."

"Only primary colors?" the child prodigy questioned in disbelief.

Two desks down, Marion tore the wrapper from a chocolate bar, broke it into uneven halves, and handed the smaller portion to Maggie. The noises of the plastic packaging being severed momentarily distracted Vendetta.

She turned back to the old teacher, her brow furrowed. "What about secondary colors? And intermediate?"

Ms. Bergamot gave Vendetta the infamous artificial smile of a preschool teacher in denial. "Slow down there, honey. We won't be learning about green, purple, and orange until next week."

The Bulgarian child made a face of dissatisfaction. "Surely you must be joking. All we are going to do today is repeat the names of the _primary colors_?"

"No, silly." the teacher giggled. "We're going to start learning the alphabet today, too."

With that, the woman fumbled through a drawer in her wooden desk and extracted a stack of 26 flashcards bound by a rubber band. Each card showed a letter of the Roman alphabet written in black ink.

She held up a card with the character "P" printed in the center. "Who can tell me what letter this is?" her myopic eyes scanned the room behind their square spectacles and rested on the purple boy.

"Malachi?"

The purple Puritan regarded the 16th letter of the alphabet for a moment before giving his oddly stereotypical answer:

"That beith the letter 'thorn'."

Vendetta let her head fall to the desk below her with a thud. She cared not about the pain it brought or the bruise that would likely form.

"_This is going to be a long year…"_


	3. Parents and Memories

The green girl sprung awake, feeling the cold sweat on her body and in her sheets. The fiend bed was displeased with the liquid on its surface and growled. After kicking the bed to assert herself, Vendetta inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath.

"What a nightmare," she panted. Outside, the rain poured from the skies and formed droplets of condensation on the gloomy mansion's Gothic-style windows. A roll of thunder crashed, bringing the fiend maker back to reality.

"I feel… needy."

Her stomach screamed like the Vegetable Fiends in distress. Slowly she stood and staggered into the kitchen for a can of clams.

Vendetta stared up at pantry cabinet on the wall. A look of anger crossed her round face. She had encountered this problem innumerable times before. Stacking boxes atop one another and climbing them to gain access to the food supply was completely undignified. Vendetta was a genius, an evil overlord. She had power and control. Her fifty-foot effigy was placed in the center of the town and watched over the citizens every minute of every day. It was a common belief among the more religious folks of Clamburg that Vendetta was a demon born in Hell. The fact that she couldn't reach the kitchen cupboard forced the demonic dictator embrace a truth that secretly angered her to no end. She was just a little girl.

"Hamster!" she called into the room where Grudge slept. "Come here!"

The large bearlike figure appeared in the doorway a moment later. He grunted obediently, awaiting the orders of his master.

"You are to reach the can of clams in the cupboard," Vendetta commanded, pointing upward at the cabinet. "You will need to stand on a chair. And do not fall! I do not wish to clean giant hamster blood off the floor!"

The fiend rodent grunted again and dragged a chair from the kitchen table to the area below the pantry.

Vendetta turned her attention from Grudge upon hearing a familiar noise from the other room. The sound had come from her parents moving around in their hamster crate and speaking to each other, two actions of which their daughter strictly forbade. Scowling, the green girl walked into the parlor and irately pulled away the white sheet that covered her mother and father's cage.

"What is this racket?" she demanded.

Vendetta's tiny parents cowered at the sight of their malevolent, powerful daughter. Their looks of fear did little to stifle the small girl's anger.

"You know you are to be quiet when I am at home!"

Violeta, a yellow-green woman with hair similar to her daughter's, swallowed hard and faced her darker green progeny.

"Vendetta, dear," she began, her voice trembling and her Bulgarian accent even thicker than the one of the girl she was speaking to. "You did not give your father and I our crouton this afternoon…"

The all-powerful child scoffed. She treated her parents well. They lived in a modest-sized hamster cage with nice furnishings, were given old magazines to amuse themselves, and were fed a nutritious meal of dried beans and a crouton on a daily basis (usually.) But most importantly, Vendetta had shown them mercy. They had been shrunken, but they were alive. And they had all of their appendages. It would be ungrateful of them to ask for much more.

"Did I not give you your crouton today?"

Viktor, Vendetta's dark green and heavyset father shook. "N-no, my darling… y-you did not…"

The fiend maker squatted so she may be eye-level with her miniature parents. "Do I give you your stupid food nearly every day?"

The tiny adults nodded.

"Does your cage protect you from the fiends in this house that could easily swallow you whole?"

Another synchronized nod.

Vendetta's eyes lit up evilly. "And can you two still feel your pulses?"

Viktor froze with fear. His wife answered for both of them. "Y-yes, Vendetta. We are forever in your debt."

The green child smirked. "Good. Now… What is it you want from me again, stupid parents?"

The heavyset man scratched his chin confusedly. "Our… crouton…?"

Vendetta clenched her teeth. _Wrong answer._ She rattled her tiny parents' cage violently, causing them to dive for cover under the mousetrap balanced on an eraser that passed for a dining room table.

The evil child sneered at their spinelessness and threw the white sheet back overtop of the hamster crate. She then returned to the kitchen without so much as a backward glance at the cowardly little adults.

_You pay attention to me now. Perhaps you should have given me this attention when I wanted it._

The memories of her past swallowed her like the Giant Kitty once literally did.

At six years old, Vendetta was mastering algebra and reading Shakespeare with ease. Her first grade teacher, Mr. Yogurtson, was amazed at her progress. Unfortunately, the schoolboard of Clamburg had a strict policy against advancing schoolchildren a grade or two. This left Vendetta bored stiff in her studies of simple addition and vowel sounds.

The little green girl was truly gifted. But cursed at the same time. She became an outcast for her brilliance and was ostracized for seeing things in a different way than her classmates did. Watching Marvin shove a pencil up his nose wasn't funny. It was bizarre and sickening. Popular TV cartoons weren't amusing. They were dull and cliché-ridden. Vendetta couldn't seem to communicate with her peers, no matter how hard she tried or what façade she attempted to don. Even Malachi pulled communication off with more aplomb than she did. She could sum up her feelings toward school in three words:

_I am alone._

Vendetta was sad. She would often try to go to her mother and father for consolation when she felt most depressed. But they were not affectionate parents. Their daughter's problems and emotions were of little interest to them. In fact, they were a burden. Needless to say Violeta and Viktor were neglectful toward Vendetta. Just like everyone else in her life.

One summer, Viktor finally noticed his child's moping around the house and complaining about having no one to interact with. So he did a good deed. He took Vendetta to Clamburg's Normal Pet Supplies Store and bought her a little orange hamster whom she named George. George had been the runt of the litter. He was an outcast, just like his owner. The two would forever share a bond.

Despite the girl and the hamster's closeness, Vendetta still felt something missing inside of her. She could talk to George all she wanted. But he would never be able to answer her. (But thanks to George's mere company, lack of communication between the green girl and her peers had become less of an emotional problem.) Something else bothered her. Something deeper. Vendetta knew what it was, but chose not to admit it. She would never gain the immaterial thing she strongly desired: the love of her parents. Even in the rare times when she felt happy, one recurring thought killed her joy in one blow.

_George and I… we are alone._


	4. A Fiend Hamster's Affection

The green girl grunted and took the newly-obtained can of clams from her mutant hamster's outstretched paw. Grudge furrowed his brow concernedly. The always-present anger in Vendetta's eyes was gone. There was something else in its place. Fatigue? Worry? Sadness? The fiendish hamster touched his master's arm tenderly, offering to open the container for her.

Vendetta pulled her arm away. "I am not hungry anymore." She placed the metal can on the counter and walked in the opposite direction. "Hamster! We are going to the living room and watching the Mollusk Channel."

Grudge's expression deflated. He hated the Mollusk Channel. It was a TV station that played elevator music and constantly showed pictures of… mollusks. Still, he was worried about Vendetta. It may be good to keep an eye on her. Shrugging off his hatred for regarding shellfish, he joined his master in the den.

After an hour of watching her favorite program, _The History of Clams_, Vendetta's eyelids began to feel heavy. She yawned, letting the exhaustion flow through her body. The fiend maker was submerged in a deep slumber less than ten seconds later.

Grudge looked up from his newspaper and smiled at the sleeping dictator across the room. She looked so non-threatening and at peaceful when she slept. Like a harmless little girl. Vendetta would be furious if she knew her hamster felt that way. The giant rodent grunted softly, making his way to the other side of the living room. He switched off the television and turned to the child hellraiser lying on the couch. He put one paw under her knees and the other at the top of her back. Then, he gently took her into his arms and carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom, setting her down on the fiend bed. He turned off the lights and grunted a goodnight to the little green girl. Stepping over the creaking floorboards, the giant hamster returned to his own chamber.


	5. The Power of the Mysterious Book: Part 1

Vendetta walked to school the next morning with a shoebox in her hands, the giant hamster at her side, and an evil smile on her face. The rerun of The History of Clams from the previous night had given her an idea for a terrible fiend. A fiend that would surely bring chaos. Making fiends was a long process. Vendetta's decision to spend her morning practicing her trade would make her late for class. Not that she cared. Mr. Milk feared her too much to bother her about it.

As the green girl was walking past the local onion stand, she heard a soft ruffling sound in the distance. She disregarded it, thinking it was one of her many fiends that roamed the town, terrorizing the civilians. A moment later, the sound started up again. But this time it was closer. Dangerously close. As it approached Vendetta, the unwanted visitor's unidentifiable silhouette came slowly into focus through the thick morning fog. The Bulgarian girl scowled and picked a rock up from the ground.

"Stay away from me!" she yelled angrily, hurling the stone at shadow. The unknown creature fell silent for a moment but soon began to giggle innocently.

"Another pretty rock!" it squealed. "That makes two! Thanks, Vendetta!"

The fiend maker made two fists of rage. Charlotte. How she loathed that stupid girl.

The blue child ran up to her "best friend" and embraced her in a full-body hug. Vendetta went cross-eyed, feeling her flesh burn from Charlotte's overbearing affection.

"Get off of me, you stupid blue girl!"

Grudge grunted and pried Charlotte away from his master. The "stupid blue girl" beamed. She was delighted at seeing her second-favorite hamster in the whole world again after 19 hours.

"Grudge!" she cried happily, attempting to hug him. "You look so pretty today! Have you lost weight?"

The fiendish hamster glared, removing the little girl from his abdomen. He didn't like it when people made comments about his body mass.

Vendetta's eyelids twitched with maniacal anger. "Why are you here?" she demanded, jabbing Charlotte in the sternum. "Why are you not in school with the other stupid children and the stupid teacher?"

Charlotte giggled again. "I slept in. My grandma forgot to wake me up this morning. When I asked her why she said it was because she was having a pretty dream about kittens that ate lemon drops and played with spark plugs without ever getting electrocuted." The blue girl sighed dreamily and folded her hands. "I wish I had a pretty dream like that." She turned to her spiteful peer. "What about you, Vendetta? Did you also sleep in? Did you have a nice dream, too? Is that why you're late?"

The green girl closed her eyes and raised a hand to her head in exhaustion, recalling her most recent nightmare. "No. That is not why I am late."

The tall brown grass under the girls' and hamster's feet blew in the wind, creating a ripple effect on the land. Charlotte stepped forward to push for further information on Vendetta's tardiness.

"What happened then?" she questioned, a broad smile across her face. "Did monkeys block all the exits in your house?"

Vendetta rolled her eyes. "No. I have no monkeys in my house."

"Did you try to make pancakes and burn them and have to start all over?"

"No. I do not like pancakes. Nor do I cook."

"Did one of your pet birds get stuck in your hair?"

Vendetta's head began to spin. "No."

Charlotte continued with her interview. "Did salespeople selling baking soda keep you for too long by talking about their modest prices?"

The blue girl asked her next question before the fiend maker had the chance to answer. "Did the Giant Kitty cough up a giant hairball? Did Santa Claus come through your chimney and accidently break the plate you left his Christmas cookies on? Why are blackboards sometimes green? Were you looking that up? Is that why you're late? Or─"

"No, no, I do not know, no and NO!" Vendetta screamed. "You stupid blue girl! Just be quiet and I will tell you why I was late!"

Charlotte raised her arms in joy. "Hooray!"

The green girl put a hand on the lid of the shoebox she was holding. The sinister smile returned to her face. "I am late today because I was busy this morning. I was busy making a fiend. A horrible fiend! One that will destroy a certain girl. A blue girl. Who is named Charlotte."

The oblivious human target scanned her surroundings in search of a girl that fit Vendetta's description. The child dictator threw her head back in exasperation. _Stupid girl._

"It is you, you imbecile! You are the one my fiend will destroy!"

Charlotte cheered. "Yay!"

Vendetta slowly lifted the cardboard lid, savoring the moment and lustily anticipating the sweet revenge to come. When the box was completely ajar, a soft gurgling noise sounded. The green girl flipped the container over to expose her fiend.

Charlotte's eyes widened. A huge smile spread over her face. In the flesh stood a giant clam with jagged spikes all over its outer layer. Its shell was open slightly, revealing a pair of glowing red eyes. It gurgled and growled menacingly. But this did not interfere with the little blue girl's excitement.

"Awwwww! It's so cute!" she glanced over at its master. "Is it a boy clam or is it a girl clam?"

Vendetta automatically began to grind her teeth in annoyance. She knew where this was going.

"It's a boy clam."

Charlotte clapped her hands. "I'll name him Pedro! We can go shopping for phytoplankton and swim in the shallow part of the ocean and do other clam things!"

The clam's creator shook her head defiantly. "No! He is not Pedro! And you will not shop for phytoplankton or swim in the ocean or do any other clam-like activities. He is a fiend! A fiend that wants nothing more than to wreak havoc and destroy stupid people like you!"

The blue girl remained ignorant to the prophesy of her demise. She threw her arms around the torso of the fiend maker once again.

"Oh thank you, Vendetta!" she gushed. "You always make the nicest friends for me!"

"Do not touch me!"

Charlotte swooned. "I wish I could make nice friends, just like you do."

Thunder crashed in the distance, signaling for a downpour to begin. Vendetta's green face began to turn red with rage.

"They are not your friends! They are fiends! Horrible creatures that wish to kill _you._ But you are too stupid to see that!"

The blue girl grinned, feeling a stray drop of rain on her nose. She smiled at Vendetta. "How did you learn to make all these nice friends, anyway? Did your mom and dad teach you?"

The fiend maker glowered. "I taught myself!"

"But you must have learned from someone," Charlotte argued. "Everyone learns from experience. I want to know how you learned it!"

Vendetta sighed, recalling the fateful day she learned to make fiends. It was the day that changed her life forever. She glanced quickly at Charlotte who had an eager look on her face.

"If I tell you the story," she began. "Will you promise to leave me alone and let 'Pedro' devour your entrails?"

"Okay!"

Vendetta nodded, clearing her throat.

"Very well. It all started three years ago. On a stormy summer evening…."

Seven-year-old Vendetta locked herself in her room. She sat in fetal position, facing the dark green wall. It had been a week since her world collapsed. A week since she found George lying dead at the foot of his hamster wheel. The small girl covered her head with her hands, feeling nothing but grief. It was true. The good did die young.

She decided that she needed a distraction from her throbbing emotions. Her greatest escape from real life had always been through books. She found her membership card to the Clamburg Public Library in the top drawer of her dusty bureau and stuck it in her pocket. She then donned her green sneakers and headed downstairs to let her parents know that she was leaving.

The girl found her mother and father in the parlor, their eyes glued to the screen of the television. They were engrossed in Clamburg's hottest new program, _Meat Tycoon_, a show about local people that aimed build meat packing plants and sausage factories all over the world.

Vendetta entered the room. "Mother, Father…"

Her parents did not acknowledge her presence. They were enthralled by the television and Mr. Gumpit's confession of a strong desire to quit the pet supplies business and become Clamburg's next Meat Tycoon.

The green child tugged at Violeta's shirt. "Mother?"

The yellow-green woman hushed her daughter. "Not now, Vendetta…"

The reject rolled her eyes and walked over to Viktor's side of the couch. She tightened her left pigtail with her hands. "Father?"

He did not remove his eyes from the screen. "Wha…?"

Outside, the rain was falling hard. Each drop hit the roof of the manor with a crash and made a painful noise of collision when it came into contact with one of the many glass windows. Vendetta raised her voice to gain the heavyset man's attention.

"Father, I would like your permission to go to the library."

Seconds passed and Viktor did not respond. The child frowned. "Father?"

The rain and the obnoxious noises of _Meat Tycoon_ were the only audible sounds in the room. Vendetta was growing frustrated. She scowled and walked over to the TV, standing in front of the screen and blocking her parents' view.

The dark green man raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing, Vendetta?"

The little girl's left eyelid twitched. "Trying to get your attention! I'm going to the library!" The family cat, Cherbet, could be heard scampering around upstairs.

Violeta nodded hurriedly, trying to see around her daughter's small body. "Be back in thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes?" Vendetta whispered. "When your stupid program is over? What does it matter? You don't care about me."

She had stepped away from the TV and was now standing by the door, glaring at her parents.

"You haven't bothered to notice how terrible I've been feeling lately. You don't even know that George is dead..."

A flash of lightening appeared through the window. Vendetta's voice was considerably louder than that of a normal talking volume when she spoke.

"Because you were glad that I had locked myself in my room! That I wasn't interfering with your lives! You don't care about me!"

The sadness that her parents' neglectfulness had always brought her was now gone. In its place was an emotion that the young girl was now used to and would become increasingly familiar with as she grew up. The fuel for her future vindictiveness. Her torturous soul mate. Anger.

Vendetta's eyes became cold and her voice raspy. The thunder outside crashed, perfectly resembling the emotions inside of her. The girl's hands clenched into tight fists of rage. She yelled out with all her might.

"You don't care about me at all!"

Her parents were not listening. They had no idea of how she felt. Nor did they want to. Vendetta's glare reverted to her usual look of sadness. She sighed and walked out the mansion's back door, slowly making her way to the public library. The falling rain soaked through her clothes and left her cold and shivering. Normal rain was unpleasant, but it pelted off her skin and she remained dry inside. When this rain hit her body and soaked through her clothes, it became reality. Cold, damp truth seeped into the young girl's skin with the water and washed away her insides.

My only friend has died and my parents don't want to acknowledge my existence. Now I am alone. All alone.

Vendetta walked up to the door of the Clamburg Public Library, an old, federal-style building that was said to be haunted by poltergeists. The library's dilapidated stonework and dank, musty atmosphere helped to set a mood for supporting these claims. As did the fact that strange occurrences, such as books vanishing from shelves without human interference, often took place. This had frightened Vendetta when she was young. But after years of spending time in the library without seeing a poltergeist, she decided they were not vicious spirits out to get people. Since they never bothered her, she wasn't even sure whether or not to believe in them.

Inside the "haunted" building, the child prodigy had a difficult time finding a book that interested her. She was tired of reading fiction and was not in the mood for poetry. She scanned the health and history sections, but nothing caught her interest. As she aimlessly walked along the rows of bookshelves, her mind raced. She was missing George and cursing her parents at the same time.

"They don't care about me," she thought. "I just want them to notice me. To talk to me. Spend time with me. Maybe even be proud of me once in a while."

She was still wandering without direction. As rain fell on the roof of the old building, water came in through the cracks in the ceiling and was caught in six rusty metal buckets spread out around the room. Vendetta was looking down at the floor, letting her feet lead her to her next destination. They eventually led her to a wall that she walked headfirst into. The girl rubbed her cranium and looked up to see an old wood door she had never seen before. Like it had appeared out of nowhere. It was marked with a sign that read "DO NOT ENTER." Her curiosity was sparked immediately. The rational part of her mind told her that it was a utility closet or an electrical room. The sign was probably put there to keep people from getting injured. But the girl's adventurous side had to know what lay behind the closed door.

The lightning flashed and the lights dimmed. Vendetta placed her hand on the forbidden door's brass knob. It was covered in a thick layer of dust. Spider webs hung from the handle and covered the keyhole. The little girl glanced around to make sure no one was watching her. A portly, mustached man stood across from her in the health section, skimming through a book about corn. His back was to her, but she removed her hand from the door anyway and returned to scanning the shelves for something attention-grabbing.

Forty minutes passed and Vendetta found nothing of interest. The small girl checked the clock hanging on the wall and saw that she would be late getting home. She shrugged it off. _Moroccan Idol_ broadcasted right after _Meat Tycoon_. Her parents wouldn't even notice she was gone. Like always.

The sky was darkening quickly. The Id and Ego in Vendetta's mind fought for a few moments over whether to stay at the library for a few more minutes or whether to go home while some daylight could be seen through the rainclouds. The Ego eventually toppled the Id, causing the green girl to head for the exit.

Just as she was about to depart, a bolt of lighting flashed, soon being followed by a roll of thunder. The lights dimmed and then went out completely. In the moment of confusion that followed, Vendetta's Id punched the Ego in its face, knocking it down for the count. The green girl knew it was time to seize the chance to find out what was behind the forbidden door. She quickly walked back to the area near the health and history sections and made a left, placing herself in front of the unwelcoming portal. She double-took her surroundings once again before placing her small hand on the knob. People were leaving the library left and right. There was not another person within 25 feet of her.

She turned the doorknob and pushed against the door's thick wood. It stuck fast on the hinges. Vendetta applied more weight to the door. No luck. The Ego was regaining consciousness and was trying to work up the strength to tell her to stop.

But the Id egged her on. "Try harder!" it told her. "We have to find out what's inside!"

Vendetta pushed harder against the oil-deprived door. She heard a sharp squeaking noise that suggested she was making progress. The Id took control of her muscular system, making her smile in spite of herself.

The small, pleasure-loving voice in the back of her mind became similar to that of a football coach. "Keep going!" it commanded. "You're almost there! You've got to want it, Vendetta!"

She kept pushing, looking around herself every few seconds to make sure she wasn't being watched. Another sharp noise emanated from the corroded hinges. The door creaked open slightly, revealing a reddish glow inside of the room.

The Freudian coach gave its embodiment one last order before relinquishing control over her:

"You've got it! Now throw yourself against it! Be merciless!"

Vendetta inhaled and exhaled, backing up a few feet. She then charged like a bull, running at full speed for the partially-open entrance.

She must have exerted a force of 300N on the door during the collision. A loud cracking noise sounded. The rusted hinges broke and Vendetta tumbled inside, hitting her head on the stone floor. She grunted and looked up at her surroundings.

The room was lit by candles giving off red-orange light. It was cold and damp. Mildew grew on the ceiling and mice scurried across the floor and into the cracks in the walls, trying to avoid the light. Vendetta took a candle from a stand by the door and held it in front of her, trying to figure out what kind of place she had landed in.

"Someone's been here recently," she thought out loud, hearing the crunch of an insect's exoskeleton underfoot. "The candles are still lit…"

She walked a few more steps until she stumbled over a large object protruding from the surface. The girl bent down to see what had almost tripped her.

It was a thick, handwritten book. Dust coated the cover and a family of roaches had made their home in the binding. Vendetta shook the roaches out and used her sleeve to brush the dirt off of the front cover. She read the mysterious book's title aloud:

"_Making Fiends…"_

The heading was attention-grabbing enough. The little girl sat and opened the front cover, finding a letter from the author to the reader.

13 March, 1934

Dear Reader,

I write this letter on my deathbed. If you are reading it, I have passed. This book and all its power is now yours if you will accept it. Upon reading "Making Fiends," you will learn to create horrible creatures that will do your bidding in any way desired. You will learn the art of revenge by practicing my craft. You shall build armies that can hunt down and destroy your enemies and control the people around you. Once you master working with the fiends in this book, you can construct monsters in your own vision. This power, this evil, belongs to you, the future fiend maker. Avenge my untimely death. Use it well.

Yours fatally,

Vendetta Mitkova

The green girl was stunned at the content of the letter. Could this book really give her the power to create "fiends" that would forge control over other people? Would she finally be noticed by her parents if she created giant, destructive monsters? Was this book the key to getting what she wanted in life? The girl couldn't help but feel a connection with the author. She had never before met or even heard of another person called Vendetta. Her curiosity could not be contained. Vendetta turned the page quickly to find the first instructions on how to make fiends:

Fiend #001: Eggplant Fiend

Requires: Eggplant

Ingredients: 4 Dead spiders, 1 T. salt, 9 strands human hair

Preparation: Place the eggplant in water in large metal bowl. Add spiders one at a time, stirring between each addition. Pour in salt and add strands of hair. Boil. Let cool. Eggplant will come to life when it is placed near this book.

About: The Eggplant Fiend is easy to control. It will not do much more than shriek and jump. Recommended for beginners.

Vendetta looked under the directions for making the Eggplant Fiend at the set of instructions for the next creature.

Fiend #002: Tentacles

Requires: None

Ingredients: 1 cup mucus, 2 tsp. ground balsawood, 1 chicken egg, 4 owl pellets.

Instructions: Heat a large skillet. Grease with mucus. Fry the balsawood until charred black. Add chicken egg. DO NOT BREAK. Stir in owl pellets and place book near mixture. Ingredients should automatically fuse together and create a squid-like creature.

About: Tentacles is easy to control. Physically, it is quite strong. It is usually obedient toward its creator. Excellent for extortion.

The girl looked at a few more recipes before closing the book. An odd grin crossed her face. Her heart raced and her smile grew, becoming larger and more sinister each second. This was it. This was her ticket to being noticed. Vendetta stood slowly, lifting the heavy, ominous book. She walked through the door of vermin-infested secret room and out the library's main door, taking the ill-omened artifact home with her.


	6. The Power of the Mysterious Book: Part 2

Vendetta spent that night looking through the mysterious book and sorting out the possible candidates for her first few fiends. The torrential downpour had not let up. Lightening flashed frequently and thunder sounded every other second. The girl could feel herself growing more powerful with each page she turned. She didn't know why she felt this way. Why holding the book gave her such a powerful, evil feeling. The sensation was like the rush that comes with a dangerous activity like skydiving. It was both terrifying and invigorating. It was fantastic.

Hours passed before the green girl finished skimming the thick book. But the time it took was worth it. She set the manual down and smiled evilly. Three pages were bookmarked. They were the three recipes that would begin her career as a true fiend maker and give her control over the people who ignored her all her life. She glanced over her first choice with satisfaction, knowing it would be the right fiend for experimentation.

_Fiend #309: Giant Cat_

_Requires: Cat (alive)_

_Ingredients: 1 hairball, 1 cup sour milk, 5 toenails (human or feline), 2 white button mushrooms_

_Instructions: Mix together hairball, milk, toenails, and mushrooms. Coat cat with mixture. Place near book. Cat should grow to a large size and develop a taste for large animals._

_About: The cat fiend is difficult to control. It will likely not respond to its creator right away. Will bring havoc. Excellent for threatening._

The girl crept downstairs to the kitchen. She withdrew a large mixing bowl from the cupboard and set it on the counter, pouring in expired milk from the refrigerator, toenails she had clipped from her left foot, and white button mushrooms from the overgrowth in the backyard. Vendetta placed the bowl aside and went to search the ground floor for one of Cherbet's hairballs.

She found a sphere of semi-digested fur on the beautiful crocheted rug her mother had knitted when she was a little girl in Bulgaria. The light pink flowers that had always made Vendetta gag with cuteness overload were now brown and damp. She smirked. It looked better that way. Using a paper towel, she lifted the hairball and brought it back to the kitchen to add it to the mixture.

"Now…" she mumbled, stirring the unattractive concoction. "I must coat the cat with this potion…"

She glanced over at Cherbet, who was sleeping on top of the oven. He was a fat cat. His fur was dark red and his meow was shrill and piercing. Though once a great mouse hunter, he had become lazy in his age (which was a terrible excuse as he was only two years old.) Vendetta liked cats enough, but she wasn't fond of Cherbet.

The green girl brought the bowl over to the oven and put her hands in it, scooping out the contents. Cherbet woke up to feel a choppy liquid being rubbed over his back. He hissed with discontent and attempted to run but had too much fat on his legs to make it very far. The girl scratched under his chin, trying to sooth him. In response, he whipped out his claws like a switchblade and slashed his aggressor/soother's face.

Vendetta cringed as the blood dripped from her forehead to her mouth, tasting the metal-like flavor and feeling the oily consistency. _Stupid cat._ She gritted her teeth, continuing to rub the mixture onto her cat's red fur. When she had finished, she brought the book over and waited, eager to observe the effects of the potion on Cherbet.

A moment passed and nothing happened. Vendetta scratched her head and glanced at the recipe, rereading it to see if she had made a mistake. As she was looking back over the instructions, she caught sight of a yellowish shine through her peripheral vision. Cherbet's body was glowing. He meowed shrilly and tried to lick the mixture off of his fur.

Vendetta watched in awe as the family cat began to grow. It was similar to watching a balloon inflate. The red feline was quadrupling in size every second. His head hit the ceiling and crashed right through before he stopped expanding. The little girl stared up at her first fiend, her mouth open wide.

"I did it…" she breathed, gripping the book in her small hands.

A baleful smile spread across her face as she admired her work. She could feel the power coursing through her veins. It was a feeling of immense coldness. Like getting trapped in a walk-in freezer on the harshest day of winter. Vendetta welcomed the cold sensation, holding the book over her head like it was the child of a messiah.

"I can make fiends!"

Vendetta flipped open the thick manual to a page she had bookmarked earlier. It was the next fiend she would create. The fiend that would help her finally get even with her parents.

_Fiend #376: Shrinking Slug_

_Requires: None_

_Ingredients: 1 seashell, 2 Tbs. sand, 4 cups ground rotting pork, 5 2-9 x 4-12" shards of glass, 2 dandelion stems_

_Instructions: In a blender, combine seashell, glass shards, and dandelion stems. Pour into bowl. Add rotting pork and sand to liquidated mixture. Place near book. A slug-like creature should be generated in its presence._

_About: The Shrinking Slug will greatly reduce the size of anything it touches. Handle it with metal tongs. If you shrink during the process of making this fiend, you can be brought back to normal size through the powers of the Gianting Squid (see Fiend #089 for details.) NOTE: FIEND CANNOT SHRINK METAL/METALLIODS._

As the little girl gathered the ingredients for the slug, she thought about what she would do with her mother and father after she shrunk them. Would making them live out the remainders of their lives as rodent-sized specimens be a satisfying revenge? Or would feeding them to Cherbet be more fun to watch? The right plan of revenge came to her suddenly. She smirked as she blended the shell, glass, and stems together, anticipating the payback to come.

She poured the blended ingredients into a clean bowl and added the pork and sand. The container began to shake as the heterogeneous mixture fused together. Within seconds, a slimy purple creature had formed. It was shiny with sharp fangs and bug eyes. It gurgled like a gargoyle statue in the rain. Vendetta furrowed her brow. The bowl it was sitting hadn't changed in size. (She had forgotten it was made of metal.) She prodded the slug with a wooden spoon. A second later, the wooden implement shrunk to the size of a toothpick. The green girl grinned and lifted the bowl. She then grabbed a pair of tongs from the cabinet's top drawer and walked up the stairs, a menacing smile on her face.

Vendetta kicked open the door to her parents' room and switched on the lights. The man and woman sprung awake and looked up at their daughter. Viktor pulled the sheets off of his heavy body, revealing a pair of green and white-stripped pajamas.

"Vendetta," he grunted, rubbing the back of his head. "What have we told you about knocking?"

The green child smirked. She stepped forward to get a closer look at her father. Bald, out of shape, weak. He was pathetic.

"Neither of you," the fiend maker said dangerously, "is going to give me an order ever again."

With that, she walked over to her father's bedside and dumped the Shrinking Slug out of the metal bowl. It made a splattering noise as it landed on Viktor's forehead. The man went cross-eyed trying to see what his child had poured on him.

"What is this?" he questioned, touching the slug on his face. Vendetta smiled and folded her hands with satisfaction, watching as her father shrunk down to the size of a clam. He screamed like a banshee as the world around him seemed to grow. It was music to the green girl's ears.

Violetta stared down at her shrunken husband, a look of incredulity on her face. She glanced over at the child, her eyes wide with fright. "Vendetta…" her voice shook. "_What _did you do?"

The fiend maker used the tongs to pick up the purple slug that was eying her father hungrily. "Oh, nothing…"

She jabbed her mother's arm with the tongs, grinning with pride as the woman became the same size as her husband. The green girl let them scream together for a few moments before collecting them into the bowl that had held the Shrinking Slug. She brought them into her room, placing them in George's old hamster cage.

The rain had cleared up and crickets could be heard chirping outside. Vendetta glared down at her tiny parents. They back looked up at her with terrified expressions. She cleared her throat and began speaking.

"You never paid attention to me before," she muttered, sliding a finger along the cage bars. "But now you have to notice me…"

She smiled evilly again. "…If you want to live."

With a feat of courage, Violetta stood up and looked her daughter in the eye. The cage's newspaper bedding felt strange on her bare feet. "What is going on, Vendetta?"

The little girl folded her arms and sneered. "Heh."

Viktor covered his ears with his hands and shut his eyes tightly. "This is just a dream…" he tried to reassure himself. "A horrible dream…"

Cherbet meowed from the other side of the house. The sound was powerful enough to shake the foundation. Vendetta leaned over her parents' cage, still sneering.

"Welcome to the nightmare."

The dark green man fell over, feeling his pulse race. He couldn't look his daughter in the eye. "What is happening here?"

The fiend maker pulled up a chair and recalled how she had found _Making Fiends _in the library's mysterious room. She filled them in on the details of how the recipes had made Cherbet grow and created the Shrinking Slug. She broke the news to them that they would forever remain her prisoners, living the rest of their lives locked in that cage, fed only beans and croutons. When she had finished her rhetoric (and threatened her parents a few more times for kicks), she stood up and walked to the door. Dawn was breaking and its light spilled into the room through the dusty window.

"I have decided," she began, glancing down at the green shag carpet below her feet, "that I will use my power to make fiends to become the supreme ruler of this town. My fiends will enforce my authority and force the people of Clamburg to hail me as their despot. Anyone who resists my rule will be destroyed."

Violetta and Viktor cowered at Vendetta's plan. The green girl turned back to them and smiled coldly. "And of course I can have a little fun spreading the terror around…"

Vendetta slammed the door, leaving her tiny parents alone in the poorly-illuminated room. She returned to the kitchen and put a hand on the book, feeling its power come to life inside of her again.

"_I'm still alone," _Vendetta thought to herself, pouring a glass of grape punch. _"There's one thing left to do before I build up an army of fiends and take control of the town…"_

She opened the evil manual to the last page she had bookmarked.

_Fiend #401: Giant Fiend Hamster_

_Requires: Hamster (dead)_

_Ingredients: 9 dried corn kernels, 2 quarts vinegar, 4 cups grass_

_Instructions: Place hamster corpse on flat surface. Meanwhile, liquidate corn kernels and grass. Mix with vinegar. Coat hamster body with mixture. Hamster will be revived and gain great strength when placed near this book._

_About: The Giant Hamster Fiend is incredibly loyal to its creator. It acts as a great bodyguard._

Vendetta swallowed deeply, her eyes drifting over to the window leading to the backyard. George's grave could be seen from the kitchen. The rain made the ground's surface shallow.


	7. A Fiend Maker's Affection

Charlotte burst out into applause. "Wow, Vendetta! What a great story! And you told it so well! All that emotion! You should be a professional storyteller!"

Vendetta rolled her eyes and shook her head. _Stupid blue girl._

The blue girl sat down on the ground and looked up at the fiend maker. "You're such a great orator," she gushed, pulling a blade of grass from the dirt. "Now will you tell me 'The Three Little Pigs'?"

"No!" the green girl said angrily. "Leave me alone! I do not want _your_ company!"

Charlotte nodded happily. "I'm going to school now! I'll see you there, Vendetta!"

The green girl grabbed her enemy's shoulder before she had the chance to skip away. The famous evil grin crossed her face.

"Did you forget our little deal?" she smirked, gesturing back toward the mutant clam. "You have to take 'Pedro' with you…"

The oblivious little girl cheered and picked up the fiend clam, petting its shell affectionately. "Come on, Pedro!" she squealed. "Let's go to school so we can learn!" With that, she began to skip off to Mu Elementary, a mile-wide smile across her blue face.

"Wait, Charlotte!" Vendetta called after her. "Be sure to tell Mr. Milk that I've got a special surprise for the class today…"

Charlotte agreed enthusiastically. "Yippee!"

When she was out of sight, Vendetta turned to her large hamster companion and smiled crookedly. "Let's go home and make some more fiends."

Grudge grunted and smiled back at the little girl. He withdrew a pen and pad of paper from his pocket. He couldn't speak, but that didn't stop him from trying to communicate.

"You're not alone now, are you?" he wrote, handing the lined paper note to Vendetta.

The ever-present anger in the green girl's eyes had vanished again. In its place was an emotion Grudge hadn't seen on his creator's face in a long time. She looked happy. Evil, but genuinely happy.

"I'm not alone." Vendetta stroked Grudge's fur. "Because you're here."

The fiend and the fiend maker turned and walked back in the direction of the green manor. The morning fog surrounded them, making the atmosphere hazy. The rain never did start that day.

Vendetta stopped walking for a moment and cleared her throat. Grudge turned back to face her.

"Thank you for everything… George."


End file.
